


A Long Tale of Chaos

by AFalsePrayer



Category: Chaos;Head
Genre: Ballads, Gen, Prose Poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 00:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21346927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFalsePrayer/pseuds/AFalsePrayer
Relationships: Nishijou Takumi/Sakihata Rimi





	A Long Tale of Chaos

Once upon a time, a child lived upon Earth

He lived until one day, a new idea gave birth

This child was blessèd with a quite special gift

The power with his mind to change the world he was in

And yet a thought tainted him, day and night

Scribbled all through the scriptures, a simple write

He proclaimed that once again, we would recreate God

And His messengers would be at His mercy as all came to ruin

And this thought came true, too frightful for the world

It was despicable, indeterminate, but alas it was there

For a while no man could master the craft

But slowly, people came to find out this instrument of despair

Built slowly, to create the perfect world, a world void of desire

A world that would bring humanity to its knees and praise Prometheus’s fire

\--

That child was fearful, of the curse that he had brought

He began to break down and decay, the curse that he had sought

He hadn’t much longer on this Earth, this place that would soon cease

And then who appeared before him but the knight of wings, for his queen was she

He asked, “How did you come upon this realm, for no one has entered?”

She simply responded, words spoken thrice, “Trust in me.”

And the charade began, the child knew of what to create

The child gave up his name, and shone a light new

Even if the time was now, his creation was late

But to welcome the new messenger, the fated knight of True

\--

“Who are you, an enemy to me?”

Questioned the child of which he was the prophecy

“You are me as to which I am you,”

Said the creator to his gift born of blue

“You lie, you lie! I am naught a tool, that’s it!”

“A tool, you say, then where is your special gift?”

The creator left, in his charmèd seat of holster

Hoping to his soul that the gift would be there

\--

“What do, what do?” the prophecy cried,

“For I am subject to do what all tell me, but it’s a lie!”

“What of knights, what of messengers, what of this power?!”

“There is no God, I’ve doomed this earth, and my only hearth is in danger!”

“I’ve lost family, I’ve lost friends, I’ve lost all that is holy,”

“My spirit is but a wretched creation that was destined of a folly!”

The knight of wings, her swords fluttering of a butterfly

“Your fate is not here, you can escape all these lies,”

“No matter what he does, it’s most certainly too cruel,”

“Thus flee away, if not to save my maker’s life”

“But what of the bane?” the prophecy wailed

“It is alright,” said she, “for I will make what is right.”

\--

“I refuse this dejection!” the prophecy cried out loud,

“You cannot design unto me the world and fate of all!”

“I care naught of the worries and the dismay,”

“I simply wish to save the maiden who’s cared for me all along!”

The prophesier smiled, “you’ve found your way,”

To which the prophecy responded, “not of your accord, I say!”

“I choose my own fate, my own reality and desire,”

“And none are allowed to impose their thoughts upon my own spire!”

The prophecy reached forward, and thus the blade shone

The light that tore through the world, perfectly honed

There need not be more words, for his final act

The knight to save his darling, set by his own pact

\--

With the hope of all seven, came God to undo the mortal instrument

And the child smiled, laying his soul to rest

The prophecy lay dead on the ground, his soul wishing to have nothing more

And his queen took out her blade, wishing to settle her maker’s score

But she could not bear to do it, it was impossible

For their love had forced their bound in entente

Her tears wept, and her will faltered for her love instead

As that was what the world has been set on

\--

A gaze falls from the skies

Watching me always are those eyes

If the stare piercing through the black, if that is rain

Then what does that mean, if I look upon that other me slain

Nothing of that gaze now, falling from the sky now are tears

The voice of us black knights, is it possible to hear?

With a final thought, I raise my hand to the heavenly high

And no longer do I have that question, for I know where goes that blue sky


End file.
